


An Abundance of Caveats

by MalevolentReverie



Series: MalRev’s Short Stories [31]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Age Difference, Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Complete, F/M, Gift Work, Handcuffs, High School Student Rey, Kidnapping, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Nonvember, POV First Person, POV Rey (Star Wars), Police Officer Ben Solo, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Rey is 16, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Two Shot, Underage Drinking, YOLO, ben is 30, beta rey, yes bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 07:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21406129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie
Summary: Officer Solo catches Rey drinking in the woods with her friends. She's terrified and he takes pity on her. Almost.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: MalRev’s Short Stories [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1201513
Comments: 67
Kudos: 564





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdventuresofGypsyandRenovski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdventuresofGypsyandRenovski/gifts), [succubusybody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Превышая порог допустимого](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21445351) by [Tersie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tersie/pseuds/Tersie)
  * Inspired by [WARNING](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656229) by [succubusybody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/pseuds/succubusybody). 

> FOR MY TWO KITTEN ANGELS

“Rey! _Rey_!”

Firelight licks the torn shadowy edges of the woods where I’m spinning in a circle drinking cheap beer. It’s cold as fuck like late November tends to be, but I’m too drunk to care about freezing to death.

Thanksgiving break and no parents to pay attention means I can get as drunk as I want.

Rose grabs my arm, sloshing my beer onto the cracked mud, and we almost fall on our asses together. I laugh it off but she’s stressed out and grabbing at me harder. Through the haze I think I should maybe pay attention. _Maybe. _

“Cops!” she hisses. “Hux ratted us out!”

“Wh—?” I stumble and squint through the darkness toward where I think our cars are parked. “He did? Why’d he do that?”

“Because he’s an asshole!” She gives me a couple light slaps on the cheek and grabs my hand. “C’mon, let’s go before they find us. Finn went to get the car but one of the officers already picked up Poe.”

Ugh. I whine and shake my head. I don’t wanna go yet; I’m having fun. It’s hard to walk, too. The ground keeps… _waving_, and I can’t get my feet straight. Unkar won’t be happy when I come trouncing inside tonight. Or maybe he’ll be out, too.

We make it a couple steps before I trip over a branch and fall flat on my ass. It’s hilarious: I’m supposed to be getting a good night’s sleep for mock trial but here I am, laying on the ground too drunk to move while Rose hisses at me to get up.

“Stop right there.”

We freeze. Rose’s gaze flickers up, back down to me, and her eyes widen.

Every man for himself. Run like the wind, Rose Tico.

She reads my mind and takes off like a bullet, every bit the track star she is after school on weekdays. The cop swears from somewhere behind me and his boots crunch over dead grass in a couple quick steps, but he stops at my side instead of giving chase.

I burst out laughing when he turns. It’s not funny, I’m just scared shitless and don’t know what else to do.

Rose disappears into the forest, leaving me with a very tall, very irritated man. His uniform is dark blue, hair black and cut close to his ears, and he does _not _look happy. He glares down at me before reaching for the radio on his shoulder.

“Dispatch, be advised there is a… white female, approximately five feet tall, running north toward the parking lot. I am not in pursuit. I’ve detained another white female who appears to be intoxicated. Over.”

“Ten four. What is your ten twenty?”

I’m close to correcting him on Rose’s race but manage to keep my mouth shut, giggling nervously instead. The officer turns a little, looking around the dark, quiet woods, gaze passing over me.

“Playground,” he says. “Situation is under control. Standby for her information.”

“Ten twelve,” the radio squawks.

My breath catches when he takes a couple big steps toward me. I’m dragged off the ground, hefted to sit up on the edge of a nearby picnic table, and the officer sets his hands on his belt. Jeez he’s strong. He just flipped me around like a sack of feathers.

I gape up at his expectant stare, hoping I look pitiful and remorseful. Please let me go.

He raises his eyebrows. “So? What’s your name?”

“…Tina,” I lie.

“Date of birth?”

Shit. I rub my forehead and shrug, shrinking away from him. I don’t have money to get busted out of jail. Am I going to jail?

“Am I goin’ to jail?” I mumble, wringing my hands.

He rolls his eyes and looks in the direction Rose ran like he’d rather be chasing her.

“What’s your date of birth?”

“Febru—Fabaree nine. Nineteen.”

“Year?” The officer takes out a notepad and I notice his shiny badge says _BENJAMIN SOLO_. “Last name? Where are your parents?”

I shiver, shrugging. “My foster dad’s home and ‘m not sayin’ anything without a lawyer.”

“Then how do you propose I bring you home?”

Whatever, _cop. _I know my American rights. I’m an American and I have _rights._

_ “_I ‘unno,” I slur, “he won’t care anyway, so…” I shrug again. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sure he wants to know where you are.”

“No. No _thank you_.”

Ben’s expression turns incredulous. He searches my eyes while I try to keep my gaze literally anywhere else. What’s he gonna do if I don’t tell him? I’m a minor. He can’t arrest me and throw me in jail.

A breeze scatters leaves across the playground, chilling me through my damp clothes. His dark eyes wander down my sweater and leggings to the Ugg boots I stole from Famous Footwear last summer. He’s not arresting me for that, is he?

He taps his pen on the pad. “Look, I know you’re just out having fun with your friends. No one is going to prison, kid, I just need to know where you live so I can take you home. If you don’t tell me, that’s called obstruction. It’s a felony.”

I notice a silvery glint when he taps the pen. Frowning, arms folded, I squint obnoxiously at his wrist.

It’s a bracelet. A _registration _bracelet.

My heart skips a beat. I glance into his annoyed stare and back to the bracelet, suddenly even more terrified. He’s an Alpha. I’m a normal person, not an Omega or an Alpha, and he’s become a thousand times scarier than before.

“Officer Solo, ten five?”

He grabs the radio. “Ten six, situation is under control, over.”

“Ten four.”

I stare as Ben adjusts the radio and casts a quick look around the empty clearing. Lights flash beyond the trees where they’re picking up the rest of my friends.

“Okay,” he sighs, shaking his head, “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me what I need to know, Tina.”

“It’s Rey.” I shrink, clenching my freezing cold hands in fists under my armpits. “My… my name is Rey. Niima. I’m Rey Niima.”

My American rights don’t matter so much if I might be killed by an Alpha. I’ve read the stories on BuzzFeed. They’re scary. Inhuman.

Ben clenches his jaw and a muscle jumps in his cheek. He taps the pad a little faster, dark eyes sweeping down my clothes again, and he looks toward the parking lot. I’m making him mad. If he kills me no one will care. Unkar might get money.

“_Rey,_” he snaps. “One more chance: what is your date of birth, and where do you live?”

“I… I’m so sorry.” I stare, petrified. “Jus’ leave me here. Jus’ leave me here.”

“I can’t leave you here. You’re drunk, you’re obviously a minor, and you’ll freeze to death. Tell me where you live. I’m sure your foster dad won’t be _that _mad—kids do this all the time.”

We stare at each other. He’s not going to let me go. He’s going to drag me to jail and I’m going to get in trouble for the first time ever.

And I clam up. Completely.

It’s a weird feeling refusing an authority figure, something I don’t make a habit of doing. Ben gives me another imploring raise of his eyebrows before growling and putting away his notepad. Goosebumps bloom up my outer arm, stomach turning. I might vomit. I’m not fun drunk anymore.

He reaches back. Something clinks and my heart sinks.

“Stand up, turn around, put your arms behind your back.”

I whimper and shake my head. Ben produces a shiny pair of handcuffs and repeats himself, so I break down into tears and shake my head faster. He’s going to kill me. I read it on BuzzFeed once—Alphas like raping normal women and it kills them.

He groans. “Come on, honey. Just get up.”

I’m terrified beyond reason. Frozen, I stare at his shiny badge until he lifts me off the table and sets me to my feet. I’m turned to face the parking lot and jump when the handcuffs snap over my wrists. I’m being arrested because I’m too scared to talk.

Ben ignores a couple voices on his radio as he leads me thorough the clearing. His boots crush twigs and my panicked breaths mingle with his into a gray cloud every time he murmurs for me to step over something. My shoes are gone. When?

We walk out to a patrol car. He opens the door and helps me bend inside. The seat is cold and hard and the door slams so hard it makes me jump. When I look down, I notice my leggings are all torn and muddy and gross. I’m _cold. _

I stare out the windshield, lower lip quivering, then I burst into tears. What am I doing? Come on, Rey. You’re not the type to do this.

I’ll tell him. I have to tell him.

The driver door opens and Ben slips inside. He turns on the engine and clicks around on the computer stemming from the console, bracelet jangling. My heart pounds in my throat and I swallow. Come on. He’s supposed to help you.

“Um… S-Sir?” I croak. Clear my throat. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“I… I live at twelve Main Street.”

He clicks more. “Yeah?”

“Yes, and my—my foster dad is Unkar Pl-Plutt.” I’m going to puke I think, but I keep going. “My phone is broke but I c’n call. I’m sorry.”

“And when is your birthday, honey?”

“Aug… Augist…” I wince, rubbing my eyes and crying again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Ben pushes the computer away and turns to look at me, one hand on the steering wheel. He heaves a sigh but smiles through the darkness. I sniffle and try to smile back. Good, maybe he isn’t mad at me anymore. I don’t want to be late for mock trial.

“I’ve got mock… m’ck trail,” I slur.

“You _do_?” His tongue roams inside his cheek. “Guess I better bring you home, then. Can you just tell me how old you are?”

I nod, shivering. “Sixty. Sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Two thousand three?” He nods along with me and his smile widens. “Okay. Sixteen. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“…No.”

Ben’s eyes trail down my shirt and he turns back around to face the front. His radio crackles.

“Officer Solo, what is your ten twenty?”

“Ten forty two, subject released to custody of parents, over.” He shifts the car into drive and I hear a soft click. Did he turn off his radio? Is he covering for me so I don’t get in trouble?

“Ten four.”

I huddle into the corner of my seat. Lights pass over me as we drive through the small parking lot, and I hope Unkar won’t be too mad. I’ll be home soon. He’s a police officer. He’s here to help.


	2. Chapter 2

We turn down the wrong street three times before I summon up the courage to say something.

He must be lost. Unkar’s gross trailer is on the edge of town where most people don’t go unless they really are lost, so Ben must be confused. I wring my hands, no easy feat when they’re cuffed behind my back.

“I actually—I live the other way?”

Yellow and white light passes through the car. We’re driving under streetlamps toward the center of town where all the big apartment buildings and gentrified bullshit is. I peer out the window and to the front, but Ben doesn’t change course.

My heart sinks.

“Do you have’t change cars?” I ask. I’m still pretty drunk and can’t get a sentence out straight.

He still doesn’t respond, just keeps going, avoiding my eyes in the rear view. The car seems to spin and I think I might puke all over myself. I’m cold, clammy, trembling. He’s got to be taking me home. He wouldn’t do anything except that.

We drive for about fifteen minutes before Ben parks outside a new apartment building. It’s hard to make anything out—I only see big dark trees and some white siding. I sit up straighter and wipe my tears away on my shoulder as Ben turns off the car.

“I don’t live here,” I say, voice faltering.

“No?” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door.

“Main… Main Street. Main Street.”

Ben’s uniform jangles as he steps out of the car. He opens my door, resting an arm on the top and giving me a stern stare when I don’t move. His jaw works slowly while he studies me, chewing gum.

He clicks his tongue and casually sets a hand on his hip where his gun is holstered. My heart skips a beat.

“You don’t want to get in trouble, right?” he asks. I shake my head and he widens the door. “Right. So come on.”

His long pale face is inscrutable. I stare for another minute before clambering out of the car, sniffling, relying on him to keep me from falling over. He shuts the door and guides me down a short sidewalk, one big hand at the small of my back.

We come to a white door. I sway in place while Ben unlocks it and shake my head once it’s open.

“Gotta go,” I mumble. “Can’t.”

“Why don’t you lie down for a bit before I bring you home? Then you won’t get in trouble.”

I’m nauseous and exhausted and don’t recognize where I am. Ben motions for me to go inside and I curl my toes on the cold concrete, considering running like Rose did. I’m handcuffed and don’t have shoes. I won’t make it very far.

I teeter forward a step and shuffle over the threshold into his quiet apartment. I can’t get in trouble.

Ben follows and shuts the door behind us. The lock clicks and lights flicker on, blinding me for a minute, black and white spots inside my eyelids. It’s warm in here. Smells like a nice candle; kind of like cookies and Christmas.

“Mock trial is at nine,” I rasp as Ben strides past me. I blink hard, pulse pounding in my ears. “Gotta go home ‘n change.”

He walks through an open living room into his kitchen. Nothing is out of place here. The furniture is dark brown wood and beige, floors all laminate brown, and his walls are painted the same shade of eggshell white. It’s very adult. It’s not like my bedroom of mismatched Walmart junk.

“Want some water, honey?” he calls.

“…Okay.” I roll my lips through my teeth. “Are you gonna tell—tell on me?”

A refrigerator opens and shuts and I hear glass clinking. I’m too dizzy to stand so I make my way to the beige couch and collapse, moaning. My stomach hurts. I’m so anxious—I just want to go home.

Ben comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water. He stands over me and tips it to my lips, murmuring when half of it runs down my chin. I cough and drink as much as I can. I’m fucking thirsty and even though it’s a little salty it tastes great.

“Good girl.” He wipes me clean with a big, calloused hand. I blink and squirm, twisting my wrists in the cuffs. “I’m not going to tell your foster dad, but I still need to punish you for breaking the law. And you don’t want to get in _real _trouble, right?”

“No. No.”

“Right.” Ben sets the glass on the coffee table and sits next to me. His warm hand slides over my thigh and the bracelet catches on my leggings. “You seem like a good girl, Rey.”

We stare at each other. My cheeks burn from the intensity of his dark eyes. Boys have looked at me before but not like this.

I shrug helplessly. His hand wanders up my thigh, tracing the tears in my leggings from my fall.

“I stole boots once.”

“Did you?” Ben slips his middle finger through a hole and strokes the cold skin underneath. He leans in, lowering his voice. “Do you see any boys?” I shake my head as he nuzzles my temple. “Good girl. Not an Omega, either—but that’s okay.”

“Am I gonna get in trouble for the boots?”

His thumb makes lazy circles inside my thigh, drifting further down. My skin prickles.

“If you do what I say,” he whispers, “you won’t get in trouble for anything.”

I’m afraid to ask what he wants me to do. I just nod, dizzier and drowsier by the second. His hand keeps going until his thumb brushes the apex of my thighs, and I jump, but he shushes me and strokes. I’ve done this a few times at sleepovers with Jess Pava but she’s not a cop. Or a man. Or an Alpha.

Feels good. I open up for him and Ben dips two fingers in a slow stroke up and down, tracing my slit through my leggings. He nudges my jaw and kisses my neck, couching groaning as he shifts closer. Feels good. His mouth is hot and wet and he’s nibbling me, and I roll my hips impatiently into his touch.

Tension flutters but doesn’t quite build. It happens sometimes when I’m drunk and fooling around with Jess. If I keep rubbing maybe I can. We don’t like stick our fingers in or anything like that.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” I nod, shivering, and he makes an odd humming sound. A purr? “Let’s go lay down.”

I manage to shake my head as Ben stands, pulling me with him. He guides me down the hallway.

“Sir, ah c’nt,” I slur. I bump into the wall and stumble. “Please. Ah c’nt.”

We walk into a big, empty bedroom. Ben pushes me over the edge of the bed face-first and I can’t stand or struggle away with my hands bound behind my back. I take shallow, nervous breaths, eyes roaming blindly. I’m so tired. I’m never drinking again.

“It’s important that you relax, Rey.” A metal door opens and his belt hisses through the loops. There’s a soft thump. “I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

“Why—” I brace my knees on the edge of the mattress and squirm forward, panicked. “Why would you do that?”

The door shuts and locks. Maybe he put his gun away.

A rough yank brings me back to the edge of the bed. Ben pulls my leggings off and the fear flares, muted by the alcohol and sleepiness—he’s going to have sex with me. He’s really going to.

I whimper. “Please don’t h-hurt me.”

“Why not? I think you deserve to be punished.” He slaps my ass and I squeal, jerking forward. “Besides, you’ll probably fall asleep soon and barely remember. Might wake up with a nice fat knot in you.”

Something wraps around my mouth and between my teeth before I can protest any more. He’s gagging me, and as I twist my neck to look back at him, he wraps another scrap of fabric over my eyes so I’m completely blinded. I’m bent over and fighting unconsciousness, panting in fear.

Ben tears through my shirt. “You’re already in and out, huh? You remember fighting me back there, honey?” He casts the shirt aside and leans across my back, lips at my ear. “Getting pinned down?”

No, I don’t remember. I shake my head wildly and stiffen at the flick of a bottle cap opening. What’s he doing? What’s he opening?

“I warned you,” he murmurs. Cold wet brushes my entrance and I shudder. His fingertips are thick. “And now I’m going to punish you.”

Two fingers push inside me with no other preamble. My breath catches and I bite down on the gag, shifting up into Ben’s touch because it hurts. Oof. Sometimes when I touch myself I might get one finger inside but his are much bigger than mine.

He nuzzles my hair, gently thrusting his fingers in and out. I huff and paw at the bedspread but can’t get away. I’m too weak to stand up straight.

“So tight,” Ben whispers in my ear. His fingers curl and I whimper and kick. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Gonna come all over my knot, I bet. One of those Betas with the sensitive pussies.”

No, no—I don’t want him to do that. I shake my head limply and listen to his soft breaths and the wet squelch of his fingers inside me. I don’t want to do that. Knots hurt, even if this feels good and the tension is mounting like it should.

I swallow but I’m still drooling over the gag. It might be a tie. It’s stiff.

Ben withdraws his fingers and shushes my panicked squirming. He shifts closer, breathing in my ear, pushing something blunt and hot between my legs. My eyes pop open as I dig my nails into the comforter, shaking my head faster.

“Shh…” He strokes through my wet skin, lubed up himself, but I know it won’t be enough. “Be a good girl. If you’re a good girl…” Pressure. Pain. “Then you won’t get in trouble.”

My hips meet the edge of mattress, fingers arching. Ben keeps pushing and the tip of his cock is inside me, prying me open and just _pushing_, thick and hard and too big. It’s such a shock that I just whimper instead of screaming or kicking. He’s fucking me.

He grunts. His hips draw back and come forward in small thrusts that help loosen my muscles even while I’m clawing to get away.

“I know,” Ben whispers, voice cracking. He wraps a hand over mine and squeezes. “I know it’s a lot. Gotta relax, honey—open up your legs.”

Instead I burst into tears. I keep struggling to escape the sharp pressure of his cock and take heaving breaths every time he takes another inch of me. He kisses my shoulder and I realize he hasn’t even kissed me on the lips. No one has.

But I can’t get away. I cry and chew the gag as Ben plunges deeper, steadily picking up his pace to gentle thrusting, in and out and in and out. I’m pinned under his weight and if I fight too much I might get in trouble. I don’t think anyone will believe me.

He rubs his thumb along mine, fucking me languidly. I’m skewered and trembling and helpless.

“Gonna pop a knot,” Ben mutters, kissing my temple. He shakes his head and shivers. “Son of a bitch.”

Somehow the pressure gets worse. It doesn’t hurt but it’s like I’m overfilled, stuffed from eating too much or crampy from my period. I hyperventilate until I’m lightheaded as Ben pounds into me, hips slapping against mine, fingers digging into my hip. He curses and squeezes my hand so hard I think it might break.

Then I’m very suddenly _too _full. I manage to scream into the comforter as warmth curls up my spine and my hips dig into the edge of the mattress—I’m coming, bucking in the confusing mix of sensation. My eyes roll as my insides flutter around his cock where it’s stroking just the right spot.

I’m coming and coming and it feels amazing and Ben is groaning in my ear. I’m overfilled. I feel the warm rush of his release and the tight tension of the knot, and I know it’s going to hurt when I wake up. His body is tethered to mine, pumping me full of him.

“_Fuck_—!” Ben slaps my ass, huffing. “Oh, fuck. Jesus _Christ_—”

His cock throbs inside me. I’m vaguely aware of pain but just chew the tie and squirm on his knot, whimpering and coming again. Feels good. Feels good listening to his gravelly pleasured groans and telling me I’m a good girl.

But the pain gets worse. My muscles cramp around Ben, aching from the strain of taking him. I’m not meant to do this. I’m not an Omega.

He loops an arm under my belly and lifts me onto the bed. “Good girl. It’s okay—it’s okay.”

We lie together on our sides and I wince from all the movement. My head is pounding and I’m stuck, body resisting the intrusion of his knot, cramping and pushing but I know it isn’t going anywhere. It hurts. Why did he do this to me?

Panicked, I hyperventilate, drooling down my chin. Am I going to die?

“Shh… shh.” Ben kicks off his boots—I hear them thump to the floor. “Relax, Rey. If you don’t relax it’s going to hurt more. Just relax and let it happen.”

I’m trapped. I didn’t even want to have sex. I wanted to go home and get in trouble and go to mock trial tomorrow but I’m lying in a strange police officer’s bed instead. He’ll be mad if I complain. Then I’ll be in trouble _and _all this was for nothing.

I cry. Ben runs his big hands down my body in a way that’s supposed to be comforting and he purrs but it doesn’t do anything for me.

“Can’t run away from me now,” he murmurs. His fingertips skate up my ribs and brush one of my breasts. “Can you?”

I shake my head. Ben kisses my neck and carries on stroking whatever parts of me he can reach, and despite the pain and terror, I’m too exhausted to stay awake. I blink and writhe and whimper before I black out into blissful darkness.


End file.
